Chapter 14

Bloodties

Chapter 14 of 14

Rhea Silvia

And tumbling out of the fireplace in their shared room in Hogwarts, Hermione holding on to him.

Alternate Universe Hogwarts Castle 11,544 Words 14 Chapters WIP

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Of course, Mother.

Draco.

***

He steps into his father’s study, momentarily disoriented. A hand catches his shoulder, steadying him. His father, eyes blank, mouth twisted into a forced smile. “Draco.”

“Father.”

“You’ve been informed, I trust?”

“Of course, Father.”

“And put it to good use?” He nods, suddenly nervous. His father cannot possibly know... “Very well. Come along.” Then he is being escorted—carefully—down the corridor, to his aunt’s suite.

Where his mother is waiting, and Aunt Bella and Hermione, who looks pale and quiet and jarringly too-like his mother and hers. “Mother.”

“Draco.”

“Draco, dear.” Bellatrix Lestrange, who was stroking her daughter’s hair—she flinches minutely the moment her mother leaves her—rises from the bed and clasps his hand. “You’ll take care of her, won’t you? Because I’m only letting her go because you’ll take care of her.”

His mother sighs, trades a glance with Hermione. “Of course he will, Bella. He’s going to marry her, isn’t he?”

He smiles at her. “Of course, Aunt. How could I not? Hermione, we should leave before I’m missed.”

She gets up, walks to him—avoids her mother, and she is Bella’s daughter, impossible to see them so close and not know that—and smiles. “Of course, Draco.”

Bellatrix smiles again, the maniac gleaming through the cracks of the mother. “You’ll bring her back for Christmas?”

His mother has left her seat as well and circles around to stand behind him, long-fingered hand on his shoulder. “Of course he will. Goodbye, Draco. Hermione.”

“Mother,” he says, smiling at her, relieved to see her smiling back. “Aunt Bella.”

Hermione reaches up to embrace her mother. “I’ll be back for Christmas,” she promises, soft and sweet and nothing, nothing, like the strident girl he knows. “Aunt Cissa.”

His mother smiles at her, presses a kiss to his hair and hers, then shows them to the door before her sister can approach. His father scrutinizes them carefully, nods approvingly at something only he can see, and then they’re stepping into the fireplace in his father’s study.

And tumbling out of the fireplace in their shared room in Hogwarts, Hermione holding on to him. He helps her onto the couch, then declares himself exhausted and drops beside her.

“How are my pa… the Grangers?”

“Potter told me they’re fine. Shaken, yes, but recovering. There weren’t any serious physical injuries.” Nearly none, and he does not know what she sacrificed, what small soul-sapping compromises she negotiated to keep them that way, these Muggles she won’t even call parents anymore.

“That’s good,” she says, voice tired, and Hermione’s supposed to be the Mudblood he detests, the know-it-all he taunts, the girl he half-grudgingly co-operates with, not this crumpled child he wants to protect, not his friend, not his blood. “Draco…”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For writing.” And she looks sincerely grateful and he’s going to snap.

“Please, Hermione, don’t.”

“No. It helped. They locked the Grangers away, and I was so lonely and she kept telling me that I should love her and your letters,” she straightens and looks far more like the Hermione who left these rooms five weeks ago, “were the only things keeping me sane. So thank you.” He nods. “When you write to Aunt Cissa, please thank her for me, for making us correspond.”

“You needn’t call her that, you know,” he smiles. “Not anymore.”

“I do,” she answers, and he can see that she’s had the same realization he has. “And I don’t mind. She was… kind to me.”

Ah. “Doubtless she was,” he drawls. “Hermione…”

“I know. Draco,” and she’s crying, Merlin, she’s trying not to, but she is, “would you please tell my friends that I’m back.” He told Potter to be in his rooms by 5:30 before he left.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” She’s shifted closer to him till her hair is draped over his shoulder. “Draco…” and the hitch in her voice has grown steadily more pronounced in the last few minutes, “I… would you…”

It’s 5:27 and she’s crying in earnest, face pressed to his neck, and he has no idea what to do, so he does what he wanted to do for his mother, those nightmarish months when his father was gone, and pulls her closer till she’s draped half-across him and cups her head and twists an arm round her waist.

And stiffens, when the door opens and Potter comes in, followed by Weasley, expecting her to leave him, look embarrassed, turn to them, but she doesn’t move at all, and Potter comes closer and finally sits on the couch and runs a hesitant hand down her back, and she half-turns, hugs Potter without letting go of him, so that they’re all entangled in a three-way embrace, while Weasley stands watching, stiff and awkward and easily-forgotten.

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Latest 25 Reviews for Bloodties

35 Reviews | 5.0/10 Average

0/10

genrou

hmmmm i wonder how things will progress from here.

0/10

genrou

i dont know if its because i just ate so my processes are being directed to my stomach instead of my brain but im finding a number of things in this fic hard to follow. i feel as if i keep missing a number of things that are not being said directly and i assume im suppose to be able to follow. or it might be because of the pov.

0/10

magenpie

Interesting that Voldemort knows that both Lucius and Narcissa recognize greater claims on their loyalty than service to him. Promising start I think!